Harry Potter and the Two Flowers
by Azaron
Summary: While the magical world prepares for the most exciting tournament in history, the forces of darkness are on the rise, Voldemort is nearing resurrection and Harry Potter finds himself in the middle of it all. A thrilling tale of veelas, dragons, quidditch, duelling, friendship and a love that beats all. Smart, trained Harry. HP/FD/OFC.
1. Chapter 1: It begins

**A\N:- I begin this story with the solemn promise that it shall be completed. **

** Harry Potter and the Two Flowers**

_**Chapter 1: It Begins.**_

_Chateau Delacour, Marseille, France_ Aug-04-1994

A small castle stood majestically and alone on top of a hill overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Lush green grass stretched as far as the eye could see, dotted here and there by stray trees. The combination of the sun beating down on the bleached walls of the castle, the sound of the waves licking the sands of the beach and the general fragrance of a flower-filled countryside made for a very pleasant atmosphere. It seemed only appropriate that a building which housed such beauty should in itself be a sight to behold.

Inside the castle, Dominique Delacour sat at the head of the dining table with a letter in his hands. It confirmed what he had already known, but it did not make him any happier. He didn't let his displeasure show on his face as Apolline drew up the nearest chair to him and sat on it. His wife however, seemed to have already sensed something was wrong with her husband. She did not say anything, but merely smiled at him enquiringly. Dom allowed himself to return the smile.

"_There are times, not very often, when I wish you couldn't do that."-_he said_._

"_Do what?"_

"_Read me like a book."_

She laughed her tinkling laugh._ "You should've thought about that before marrying a veela. Now tell me. What's troubling you?"_

Dom looked into her blue eyes, trying not to lose himself like he had done so many times before -_"I think the entire family needs to hear this. Could you please go get them all?"_

Apolline gave her husband a quick, searching look before gliding out of the room. Dom watched her go and sighed into his long black beard. He was not looking forward to doing this. His daughters had already gone through enough for no fault of their own.

The door behind him, which lead to the kitchen opened. A tall veela with dark black hair and darker eyes stood there. Even though he loved his wife dearly, and considered Camille to be nothing more than a sister, he felt himself drawn to her. Veela simply broadcasted their allure which worked to enhance their already considerable beauty.

Camille Fletcher walked towards the table and sat on the chair her friend, Apolline had just vacated. She took one look at him before saying_-"What's the matter Dom?"_

This was too much. He may not have been a poker-faced individual, but he certainly wasn't an open book either. In fact, most of his political rivals had a very hard time reading his expressions. At home however, it seemed to be a completely different story.

"_How do you two do that? It_'_s really starting to bother me now. None of my opponents can tell what I'm thinking. But I seem to be a toy in your hands."_

Camille gave a trademark veela giggle that would have made most men's heart flutter. Dom's certainly did. _"Well, we have known you a lot longer than your opponents." _

At that precise moment, Apolline walked into the room through the hallway door. _"They'll be down in a moment."_ -She announced, and noticing the expression on Dom's face added with her eyes twinkling_-"Not trying to seduce my husband, are you Camille?"_

Camille smiled mischievously at Dom and said- "_Hmm_…_ let me see…. Actually, I think it was Dom who was trying to flirt with me."_

Apolline grinned at Dom, who was now red in his face and said_-"Well then, I guess I'll have to keep an eye on you two from now on. Right, Dom?"_

"_Hmph"-_Dom grunted. Teasing him was one of their favorite pass-times. He didn't mind much. He would never have admitted it, but he liked it.

The hallway door opened again. This time, to reveal a much younger veela. To say she was beautiful was inaccurate. Silky smooth, waist-length silver hair cascaded down her face hiding two deep blue eyes that put the sea outside to shame. The perfect complexion of her face would have made many a man dream about stroking her cheek. Her nose was a mark of precision and her perfect mouth with its full lips was complemented by her delicate chin. Even at fourteen years of age, her figure could have had any woman on the planet turning green with jealousy. Beauty was earthen, Fleur Delacour was divine.

Fleur was followed into the room by another veela. She was slightly shorter than Fleur, but no younger. There weren't many women, or even veelas that could claim to be equal to Fleur in beauty. But Jasmin Adrienne Fletcher was exactly that. Like her mother Camille, she had lustrous dark hair, which fell just below her rather large breasts in elegant curls. Those, combined with her sparkling dark eyes, rosy-red lips and milky-white complexion, made her look like a goddess sent straight down from heaven. The room looked much too small to contain both of them.

Dom waited until they were both seated next to their respective mothers. He felt a small swell of pride at his 'two little girls'. He certainly considered Jasmin to be like his daughter. They were beautiful alright. Even for veelas, they were immensely beautiful. And that was the problem. They were _too _beautiful. Although only fourteen, they had been approached by numerous boys already. Some had merely stood looking at them with their mouths half-open, while others had tried all kinds of antics to impress them. Others had gone one step farther.

Two years ago, when they were in their second year at Beauxbatons, Fleur and Jasmin had been cornered by a gang of sixth-year boys. Dom's blood still boiled at what they had attempted to do to two twelve-year old girls, much less his daughters. Thankfully, Madame Maxime had heard the girls' screams of terror and had arrived just in time to stop them. But the damage had been done. Although the boys had not gotten their wish, both the girls now tried to avoid any form of contact with boys, especially Jasmin. Even now, she cringed when Dom tried to hold her.

The boys had been dismissed from Beauxbatons, but Fleur and Jasmin were subjected to a lot of persecution from their peers. They were loathed by all the girls at school for their beauty and Fleur and Jasmin despised all the boys. This meant that they were completely alone at school, which only caused them to grow closer together.

Dom sighed again before beginning- _"I just received an owl from the French ministry. They have confirmed something I've known for some time now. The British were very eager to hold the Triwizard tournament this year at Hogwarts. The letter I just received confirmed that both the French and Bulgarian governments have agreed. From what I can gather, this tournament is going to be very different from the previous ones. I'm sure Madame Maxime will tell you more about it on your first day of term. For now, all I can tell you is that you'll be spending the entire year at Hogwarts. You'll also be attending classes with Hogwarts and Durmstrang students." _

Fleur glanced at Jasmin to find her returning the look. Clearly, she'd had the same thought-the more people there were the more their chances of being harassed. Still, she couldn't bring herself to feel too bothered. The Triwizard tournament hadn't taken place for more than a century and now, and she was going to get to watch it first-hand.

It was then a thought hit Fleur. Traditionally, three champions were chosen from the competing schools. What if she was chosen as the Beauxbatons champion? That would really shut up all the other girls at school who said she and Jasmin used their looks to secure good marks. She had a brief vision of herself standing tall and proud in front of all her so-called peers, having just won the tournament. She would be able to go around the other students with her head held high. She wouldn't be 'just a pretty face' anymore. Then and there, she decided to enter the tournament if she could.

Dom was speaking again. With an effort she pulled herself out of her musings_. "Apparently, there's been a lot of excitement at the ministry."_ he said scanning the letter again. _"According to the Department of Magical Sports and Games, there's going to more than just the one main competition. I'll go get all the details today when I'm at the ministry."_

Apolline interjected-_"That's all well and good Dom. But what do we do about Fleur and Jasmin. They'll be hounded by all those boys and don't forget, Britain isn't the safest place for a veela."_

Camille agreed with her friend_-"Maybe you can convince the Minister of Defense to spare a few aurors to act as bodyguards."_

Dom frowned. It would be difficult to convince the Defense Minister to provide aurors for such a small thing. But his daughters' safety was paramount. He decided to try asking him nonetheless._ "You're probably right Camille. I'll talk to Rodin and see if he can spare a couple of female aurors."_

Fleur bristled at this. She wanted to protest, but Jasmin beat her to it. Jasmin was afraid of boys in general. But she was no pushover either. _"We can't go to Hogwarts surrounded by aurors. We'd look really silly. Besides, we're not twelve anymore. We can take care of ourselves now."_

"_That may be. But I can't chance it."_ He looked at both their indignant faces before adding_-"Fine. I'll ask Rodin to send just one auror who can disguise herself as a student. How about it?"_

"_But papa…"_

"_We don't need…."_

"_It's either this or you won't go at all."-_Dom spoke with a tone of finality that he rarely used at home, before getting up from the table and heading for the fireplace. The girls were left staring at each other wordlessly.

-#-

_Malfoy Manor, England _Aug-04-1994

Lucius Malfoy paced around his drawing room. His feet sank into the plush carpet pleasantly. His cold, grey eyes swept around the room. It was as richly furnished as the rest of the house. The furniture in the room could have belonged to a king of old. The ornate ivory chair in the corner alone had cost him a fortune. But he hadn't minded. Money, he always told his son, ran the world. It was the supreme power that decided the fate of all. The more you had of it the better your chances of survival. And you needed to know how to flaunt it in front of others.

He turned towards the mantelpiece which held an antique clock. It was just before midnight. His visitor had insisted on arriving at that time. No doubt whatever business he had with him wasn't strictly legal.

The doorbell rang. He stepped out on the corridor and began making his way towards the front door. The eyes of the portraits all along the corridor followed him. His footsteps rang out loud and clear. The rest of the house was deathly quiet. Narcissa and Draco had gone to bed early. He had insisted on it.

He opened the front door himself to find two men standing outside, shivering in the cold wind. One of them was short with greying hair that fell down to his brown eyes, which were twitching with uneasiness. He seemed particularly diminutive, standing in Lucius' large doorway. In contrast, the man next to him was nearly seven feet tall and built like a bull. His neck alone was thicker than the other man's thigh. The rest of him was just as massive. He could easily have been mistaken as a half-giant. His eyes however, mirrored the cold, expressionless ones of Lucius. Lucius instantly marked him down as a professional killer. He had seen the type before.

Lucius silently moved aside to grant them passage. The shorter man seemed almost reluctant to enter, but did so nonetheless. The giant followed him in and stood behind him with his hands behind his back. Lucius turned to face them after closing the door. "Which one of you is Yves Gluant?" he asked, knowing the answer.

The short man held out his hand as anticipated. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Malfoy. My contact spoke very highly about your….er…..efficiency."

Lucius surveyed the man coldly before taking his extended hand. His English was surprisingly good. "I wasn't expecting two of you, Mr. Gluant."

Gluant smiled good-naturedly at Lucius. "You'll have to forgive Vladamir here. He's my bodyguard. He goes wherever I go."

Lucius shifted his eyes to Vladamir who stared back at him unblinkingly. It wasn't a hostile stare, nor was his body language in any way aggressive. Yet, Lucius felt a deep unease about the man. Lucius gestured for them to follow him and lead them into the drawing room. As soon as he entered the room, Vladamir quietly stepped behind the door and stood with his hands clasped in front of him. Lucius made a mental note to get himself a bodyguard as soon as possible. He may not have much need for one, but a bodyguard would definitely make him look intimidating.

Gluant began with what appeared to be a prepared speech. In his nervousness, the words fell out of his mouth in a rush -"Mr. Malfoy, the first thing you should know about me is that I am here representing a client of mine who wishes to remain anonymous. He has heard of your reputation for keeping your name and that of your business associates out of the papers. That is the main reason we've chosen to deal with you. You must understand that confidentiality is of utmost importance to both my client and myself."

Lucius nodded. That tallied with what his contact had told him to expect. Gluant continued-"My client would like to enlist your help in… "He paused; contemplating how to convey what he had to say mildly before-"well, there's no simple way of putting this…. We require your services in kidnapping someone."

"Who?"-Lucius asked.

Gluant looked nervous again. His grip on his stick seemed to momentarily tighten before he replied-"The daughter of an important French ministry official. Money is not a problem." He added quickly. "We're willing to pay handsomely if you can get the job done."

Lucius exhaled slowly. This was _not _what he had expected. He usually had his agents kill, abduct or rob someone inconsequential. It was easy money and he need not fear his victims' backlash. Kidnapping a Ministry official's daughter however was much too risky. Ordinarily, he would have refused. But, Gluant had said that money wasn't a problem. He needed time to think. So he asked- "Surely, you have people in France itself who can carry out this task."

Gluant replied pleasantly-"No. The girl is too well protected in France. But the entire family will be coming here to witness the Quidditch World Cup. She will be vulnerable there. It will be up to you to separate the girl from her family and bring her to us then."

"How will she be protected?"

"Our sources inside the ministry tell us that four aurors have been assigned to protect the entire family. We'll inform you if that changes."

Lucius considered this. He knew for a fact that the security at the World Cup was going to be tight. Every single ministry official would be there. Fudge had even mentioned recalling a few retired aurors to provide protection for the visiting dignitaries. It was going to be risky. He had to be sure it was worth it.

"How much are you willing to pay?"

For an answer, Gluant reached into the pocket of his robes and extracted a large money sack. "There are 10,000 galleons in this bag. If you can get the girl to us alive and unharmed, we'll pay a further 90,000 more."

Lucius smiled. It was almost an evil leer that seemed out-of-place on his aristocratic face. He would have to enlist the help of most of the Dark Lord's remaining followers, but it would be worth it. "Mr. Gluant, we have a deal. Do you have a picture of the girl?"

Gluant reached into his robes again and pulled out a leather-bound diary. From between its pages, he extricated a small muggle photograph and handed it over to Lucius Malfoy.

"She is the daughter of the French Minister of International Affairs and co-operation, Dominique Delacour."

-#-

_Chateau Delacour, Marseille, France _ Aug-04-1994

Fleur sat on her bed with her slender legs folded neatly beneath her. Her room was furnished plainly. For all the wealth her parents had, Fleur herself had very modest tastes. The walls of the room were painted a simple sky blue and it only contained a small cupboard, a desk and chair, dress closet and her bed. The room was moderately large with a solitary window that faced the sea.

It was out of this window Fleur sat staring. It was another sunny day and the Mediterranean was glittering in the sun. Fleur liked watching the sea. It looked so unrestricted, unconcerned and free. It was everything she wanted to be.

The door opened to admit Jasmin. She was the only person allowed to walk into her room without knocking. Jasmin seated herself on the lone chair in the room with her knees touching and her ankles crossed. Clear blue eyes turned away from the window to look at her.

"_I'm going to try and enter the Triwizard tournament."_

Jasmin simply looked at her. Anybody else would have been shocked at this proclamation. Jasmin however, understood. But that didn't mean she wanted to see her best friend risk her life.

"_You don't have to."_

"_Yes I do."_

"_No you don't." _Jasmin persisted. For all her intelligence and patience, Fleur could be a hot-head who made bad decisions when she was worked-up. _"You don't have to prove yourself to anybody. That's why you want do this, isn't it?"_

"_Yes. But you're wrong Adri. I do need to prove myself." _Fleur turned to look at the sea again. "_Look at what happened today. Even my father doesn't think we can take care of ourselves." _Her voice hardened._ "You're wrong Adri. I have a lot to prove to a lot of people. We both do." _

Jasmin knew about Fleurs stubbornness better than anyone. But she wasn't about to give up without a fight. "_There are other ways of proving yourself. You know the history of this tournament as well as I do. People_ die _in this tournament Bell."_

Fleur turned back to look at Jasmin, her eyes were blazing with determination. _"I've already made my decision. I'm going to enter and I'm going to _win." Jasmin knew right then it was a lost cause. Fleur looked like she was ready to wrestle with a troll, if she had to, to compete in the tournament. Jasmin decided to help her as best as she could.

They sat in companionable silence for a while. Fleur, thinking about the reaction of her school if she won the tournament and Jasmin, trying to remember everything she had read about the tournament. A thought struck Jasmin.

"_How do you think they're going to react when they see us?"_

Fleur didn't have to ask who 'they' were. Jasmin usually talked about boys like they were a different species_. "Probably the same as Beauxbatons. They'll try to impress us by doing something silly or follow us around with their tongues hanging out."_ Her voice was filled with disgust.

Jasmin tried and failed to hide the fear in her voice. _"What if they try to hurt us?"_ For a minute, she could have been a small, twelve-year old girl cowering in the corner, Fleur's screams echoing in her ears, as an obese, foul-mouthed boy tried to forcibly kiss her. She was no longer twelve and helpless. She and Fleur had spent the last two years learning to defend themselves. But something about boys still left her too frightened to fight.

Fleur couldn't think of anything comforting to say. So she placed her hand on Jasmin's forearm and squeezed reassuringly, saying the only thing she could think of- _"Don't worry Adri, we'll be fine. After all, what's the worst that can happen?"_

-#-

_French Ministry of Magic, Paris, France _ Aug-04-1994

Dominique Delacour exited the floo and caught himself from falling just in time. From both his sides came the sounds of others exiting the floo network. Dom hurried to get out of the way of the others who might be coming in behind him. Morning was always the busiest time at the floo network. A majority of the ministry workers used the floo to get to work in the morning causing blockages in the corridor. Today was no different. All around the room, people were stumbling out of fireplaces and dashing off to their respective departments.

Once he was outside the floo room. Dom slowed down his pace. Being the Head of a department meant he could keep his own hours. He planned on getting to his Department of International Affairs to see what changes the Triwizard organizers had planned that was causing so much uproar at his department.

But first, he had an appointment with the Minister of Defense.

He reached the main foyer and was shocked. Utter chaos reigned all along the vast hall that acted as a juncture for all the departments. Dom had never seen the place so crowded before. People were being buffeted from one place to another, most of them reporters. It seemed the news about the Triwizard tournament taking place had been made public.

Dom decided he was going to have quite a job of getting to the Ministry of Defense, the entrance to which was, inconveniently, located at the far end of the hall. Just as he was steeling himself to fight his way through the mêlée, he heard someone call out his name.

Dom turned to see a large man making his way towards him. As he walked, his head and shoulders towered over the others around him. He parted the crowd easily, or rather, the crowd seemed to part for him. Dom thought he looked vaguely familiar.

"_Lucien Caron, sir."_ He said stretching out a huge hand and covering Dom's entire hand as he shook it. _"Department of Improper use of Magic." _

His face was as massive as his body. But his chubby cheeks, combined with his tiny, half-open mouth made him look a very cuddly teddy-bear. He turned to survey the hall. "_It's a mess, sir. Apparently, the English Minister of Magic made a public statement about the Tournament taking place."_ The way his nose flared told Dom, what Caron thought about the English minister. _"The whole place has been swarming with reporters since. We can't deny them entry, or they'll start saying we're trying to repress them."_ He turned to face Dom again, his cheeks bulging as he talked. _"Would you like me to escort you to your department, sir?"_

"_That's alright. I wanted to have a word with Minister Rodin first."_

"_I don't mind Minister Delacour. I'm passing that way."_ Dom was about to ask Caron to go on and leave him when one of the reporters spotted him and started rushing towards him. Dom changed his mind.

"_You know what Caron? I think I would appreciate that very much."_

"_Alright then, sir. Get behind me."_ He ordered and immediately started moving. His large belly led the way, as he made his way through the people as if they weren't even there. His muscular arms kept anyone from crossing his path. Even if they managed to evade his arms, they were pushed, forcefully, out of the way. All Dom had to do was keep up with him.

Questions were hurled towards Dom from all sides when the reporters realized that a Minister was in their midst.

"_Minister Delacour, could I please have a minute of your time?"_

"_Is it actually taking place? How did you get Durmstrang to agree?"_

"_Why isn't the tournament taking place in France? What are the chang….."_

Dom was secretly glad Caron had found him. Some of the reporters around him didn't seem above physical violence to get a story. As they reached the entrance of the Ministry of Defense, where two guards stood preventing any of the reporters from going in, Caron expertly managed to steer Dom to the front. Dom inserted his hands into his robes to take out his badge for identification, but the security guards just waved him and Caron through -they were too busy stopping the press from getting through the doors.

Once inside the double doors which separated the main hall from the departmental corridor, Caron fell into step with Dom. He seemed remarkably unfazed for a man who had just bashed his way through a mob.

"_Going to meet Minister Rodin about your security for the World Cup, sir?"_ Caron enquired.

"_No, that's already taken care of."_ They had reached a point where the corridor split into four similar-looking passageways, each leading to four different departments. There were signs over the entrance of each passage that announced where they led.

The passage on the extreme left had a large black sign over it proclaiming _"Department of Improper Use of Magic_" in bold letters. The next passage had a similar board that _read "Department of International Affairs and Co-operation_." The second from right was _"Department of Magical Sports and Games"_ and the one on the extreme right was the _"Department of Defense"_.

Dom thanked Caron before taking the path on the extreme right. The passage was a short one and it was lit with flaming torches. As Dom reached the end, it turned sharply and ended in a blank wall. Once again, Dom took out his badge and this time, he rubbed it against the wall. As the Head of his department, he had access to almost all of the other departments.

The wall before him started to shake, rumble and then collapsed suddenly. Someone new might have been fascinated by this performance. But Dom had seen it too many times before to even pay attention. The wall had collapsed to reveal a large room which seemed to be just as chaotic as the main hall. The Defense Ministry officials, most of them French aurors, were hurrying around with large stacks of parchments in their hands. Clearly, all of them had been pulled out of their routine duties to provide security for the World Cup, and more importantly, the Triwizard tournament.

Dom started making his way towards the end of the room, careful not to bump into anyone. Some of the workers called out to him or wished him a good morning. He was well known and respected in most departments because of his quick wit and political acumen.

There was a solitary door at the end of the room. This led to the chamber of the French Defense Minister, Mark Rodin. He was a key member of the French Ministry since he controlled the aurors and co-ordinated with the auror forces of other countries. He was also a good friend of Dom.

Dom entered without knocking. As he had expected Rodin was in his office. He rarely ever left it. Today, he was standing with a cup of coffee in his hands, looking out of a barred window.

The man himself looked nothing like one of the most powerful men in France. He was a small man, no taller than five foot five and looked almost emaciated. His thin, brown hair looked wild and unkempt. His face was as lined as possible and spoke of the eternal torment he'd endured. He looked a lot older than his fifty five years. But the eyes behind the owl-like spectacles showed who he truly was. They were completely devoid of any emotion. They were the eyes of someone who had killed, and had not regretted it. For Mark Rodin had been one of the best aurors of his time.

When Dom entered, Rodin silently motioned him towards one of the straight-back chairs in front of his desk. Dom seated himself without a word. Clearly, Rodin was in deep contemplation and he did not want to interrupt his train of thought. Dom sat back and eyed the room. It was littered with crushed papers and the entire room stank of tobacco smoke. A heavy, brown dossier sat in the middle of his desk, bursting with parchments. Presently, Rodin pulled himself out of his reverie and settled down on his arm-chair behind his desk. He took out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Dom, who declined. Rodin promptly put it in his mouth, lit it and inhaled deeply. It was only then he spoke.

"_No."_

"_I'm sorry?"_

"_You want protection for your children during the tournament."_ It wasn't a question. It was a bland statement. _"The answer is no."_

Dom was astonished, which in itself was a rare occurrence_. "How did you know?"_

"_Because I've been requested the same thing by at least four others."_ Rodin took another drag on his cigarrete, making the end glow. _"Not to mention the ones who have requested the Minister of Magic himself personally. All of them are worried about the safety of their children and want auror protection. And we don't have enough man power to assign separate aurors for everybody. So, the minister has ordered me to send a couple of aurors to guard all the students."_

"_But Mark, you know my problem. My daughter and her friend are veelas. They'll be harassed by most of the boys there and I can't have that. They need special protection and you better provide it." _Dom had not meant to sound threatening, but didn't care if he had. His daughter came first.

Rodin crushed his half-burnt cigarette in the ash tray on his desk before sighing tiredly. _"I sympathize with you Dom. I really do. But I simply don't have a single auror to spare, especially for an entire year."_ Dom gave him an almost disappointed look. Rodin continued as if he had not noticed- _"Look, the Triwizard tournament will be taking place under heavy security due to the amount of celebrities and public figures who will be turning up to watch. I know for a fact that the British auror department is taking this very seriously. They won't let anything happen to the daughter of a senior French ministry official. But if you're still worried about your daughter, you can contact a private security firm and hire someone. I'll arrange for that person to be granted full access into Hogwarts. I know it's not much, but I'm afraid that's the best I can do for you Dom_."

Dom got up, threw him a look of contempt and left without a word. Rodin leaned back on his comfortable arm-chair as he reached inside his robes for another cigarette. He regretted the way the meeting had ended, but he really had done everything he could. Dom would have to find a way to protect his daughters on his own. He had no idea why the schools had suddenly agreed to hold the tournament. But he was sure as hell it was going to cause him all kinds of problems.

His eyes were drawn towards the brown dossier. It contained the details of his next assignment. As if the list of high profile personalities planning to attend the tournament wasn't enough, the American minister of magic had been invited by the French minister to watch the first task with him_. And_ the British and Bulgarian ministers were going to be there with _their_ respective families. Organizing security for that was going to be a nightmare. There was a dull pain in his forehead- the beginning of an headache. He examined the cigarette in his hand before sighing softly again. For Mark Rodin, the tournament couldn't be over fast enough.

-#-

_Hogwarts, Scotland_ Aug-05-1994

The great castle stood stalwartly under the night-sky, its many towers and turrets highlighted by the hundreds of stars dotting the sky. With all its charges away for the summer, the castle was unusually silent. Even the air was still. On the whole, it looked gloomy, abandoned and forlorn; nothing like the host of one of the most highly anticipated events of the century. The current master of the school sat in his office, fingertips touching, head bowed and his perpetually twinkling eyes doing what they did best. The only light in the office came from a stone basin which had runes carved on its sides. Its components could either have been liquid or gas. But they were moving ceaselessly, emitting a silvery light that danced around the room.

Across the desk from him, sat a heavily scarred, wooden-legged individual who was regarding Dumbledore with a look of pure amazement. His gash of a mouth opened to speak- "You can't be serious, Albus. He's just a boy. How old is he? Twelve?"

"Fourteen. And I wouldn't ask him to do this unless I had complete confidence in his abilities. I've trained him myself for the past year and I've done a good job of it, even if I do say so myself." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled almost annoyingly at Mad-eye Moody. "I daresay he would give any auror a run for their money."

"But why?" The question came from the only part of the room where the pensieve's light did not reach. A hook nose emerged from the patch of darkness, followed by a curtain of greasy, black hair. In his dark robes, he seemed almost one with the darkness. Snape's eyes were fixed on Dumbledore. "I thought you were trying to protect the boy." His voice was sneering, but Dumbledore could discern the resentment underneath.

"I am. And that's precisely why I want Harry to enter the Triwizard tournament." Three sets of eyes were now looking at Dumbledore, each with their own doubts. Moody appeared unconvinced, Snape seemed unsure of Dumbledore's willingness to protect Harry and Minerva McGonagall looked like she doubted Dumbledore's sanity. When she spoke, she could have been reprimanding a naughty eleven-year old. "How is asking him to enter one of the most dangerous events happening in this century protecting him?"

Dumbledore stood up. His magenta robes swirled around his feet as he started to pace. He seemed to be contemplating his answer. Presently, he turned to look at them with a solemn expression. "As you all know by now, I have long since been convinced that Voldemort is not truly dead." McGonagall flinched. "It is my belief that the time of his return is nearing. And when he does return, killing Harry will be Lord Voldemort's main priority. It is for this very reason I've trained him for the past year." He looked up to see all three of them watching him with disbelieving expressions. He continued before they could interrupt. "While I have taught him enough to handle himself in a fight, theoretical knowledge alone can never be the same as first-hand experience. If he can face the tasks of the Triwizard tournament without the fear of failure or any insecurity, then he can certainly deal with anything Voldemort might try."

McGonagall looked livid at this answer. "So you're going to throw him in a life-threatening situation yourself so that he can learn to defend himself." The scorn in her voice was evident.

"In a word, yes." Dumbledore answered cheerfully.

Snape was the first to recover. "You seem extremely confident Potter will be chosen to represent Hogwarts. His _talent_, at best, is mediocre." He sneered. "Might I point out that there are many other, older, better-qualified candidates at Hogwarts? My own seventh-years are a very gifted batch."

McGonagall snorted. The only thing the slytherin seventh-years were gifted in was polishing off an exorbitant amount of food in one sitting. But even she couldn't deny that Snape had a point. Trained or not, Harry was only fourteen.

"Albus are you insane. All this so the boy could prove to you he is capable of defending himself? Nearly half of the champions have died in the past. And he is only fourteen. What if something goes wrong? What if Harry dies in one of the tasks? Or don't you care anymore?"

Dumbledore's eyes flashed warningly. "Don't dream for a moment that I don't care about Harry, Minerva. If I had the slightest doubt in his abilities, I wouldn't ask him to do this. His age is immaterial. I have belief in my proficiency as a teacher and in Harry's own survival instincts." Suddenly, his voice, which had been strong and decisive up until then, took a rather somber note. "I know it seems a bit too much to ask of a fourteen year old boy, but it is just as essential. You see, I made a mistake in leaving Harry with his relatives. Although he grew up as modest and humble individual as there ever was, he doubts his abilities and feels the need to take responsibility for events beyond his control." His voice was now so quiet that McGonagall had to strain her ears to hear him. "He needs to do this. More than anyone can ever imagine." He turned to look at Snape "You ask me why I think Harry will be selected if he chooses to enter Severus? The truth is, I'm not. But considering Harry's exploits until now, I think he has just as good a chance of being chosen as any seventh-year. If however, he is not chosen or does not want to enter, I will not think any the less of him for it."

McGonagall looked unconvinced and Snape livid. "So you want to use one of the most anticipated events of this century as your own personal testing grounds." Moody growled from his chair. "Excellent."

McGonagall looked like she was having a stroke. "You agree with him?" She squawked.

Moody's magical eye turned in her direction. In the dimly lit room, it almost glowed. McGonagall nearly shuddered, but managed to keep herself poised. "Yes professor, I agree. I have always maintained if you want to make someone a warrior, you have to throw them to the dogs first. This is good for the boy. It'll toughen him up."

"He is _not _a _warrior."_ McGonagall hissed. "He is a student. What would Lily and James have said if they were alive?" She shot at Dumbledore. Somewhere in the corner, Snape twitched.

"I cannot speak for Lily." Dumbledore answered calmly. "As for James, I believe he would have wanted his son to enter the tournament and do his best." Snape snorted.

McGonagall wanted to argue about that, but knew better. James would indeed have wanted his son to compete. There was silence in the room. Everyone seemed to have reached the end of their respective arguments.

Dumbledore settled himself back on his chair behind the desk before saying-"I have told you all of this for a reason. Either he is selected or not, Harry will be at his most vulnerable this year due to huge mass of people coming here. Therefore, I expect each of you to keep an eye on him throughout the school year. Can I count on you to do that?" McGonagall and Moody nodded. Snape merely scowled.

-#-

_Sheffield, England _ Aug-05-1994

A small Buick convertible pulled into the driveway of a modest-looking sub-urban household. The cold night air caused those within to shiver and draw their jackets around them tightly. The driver was a clean shaven middle-aged man with brown eyes. Next to him, sat his wife. She was a tall, handsome woman with bushy hair that reached her shoulders. They had never been this late to return home before. A stubborn tooth had held up Emma Granger at work.

Hermione Granger must have heard the crunch of gravel under the Buick's tyres, and she would certainly have been waiting for it. She came running out of the front door into the driveway, directly into the beam of the headlights.

Peter Granger stepped out and encompassed his only daughter in a tight hug. She was so slim and warm, her body seeming to throb with life and vitality. She had really blossomed in the last year. Already she had that old-fashioned English porcelain beauty.

"You'll catch your death." Peter scolded fondly. She flashed the big, innocent smile she had inherited from her mother at him before moving to wrap her hands around Emma Granger. These little stolen moments of joy from their daughter's life meant the world to Peter and Emma. For the greater part of the year, she was off studying _magic_. In a magical castle no less. And when she did come home for the summer, she usually left early to spend time with her friends. It was no surprise therefore, she was pampered and spoiled as much as possible whenever she was home.

Hermione lead the way into the house, laughing and joking. Peter couldn't help but feel happy about the way things had worked out. Gone was the timid, quiet, withdrawn little girl who had shied away from other kids to be with her books. Now, in her place was a gregarious, outgoing teenager who could capture the attention of everyone around her with her liveliness. And Peter attributed it all to her friends. He certainly owed those two boys a drink when they came off age.

Dinner was always a talkative affair in the Granger household. Peter and Emma had always encouraged Hermione to be frank with them. And Hermione never failed to tell her parents everything, especially during dinner. Today was no different. Hermione was full of ideas, opinions and explanations about the wizarding world, her school and the two boys in her life.

Emma watched her daughter's face light up as she talked about her most recent adventure with Harry when she had helped him save his godfather. "…he threw himself out of the bushes and yelled 'EXPECTO PATRONUM' and all of them just scattered like skittles. It was the most amazing thing you could imagine." She was talking without pausing to take a breath. Her food on the plate lay forgotten. "Professor Dumbledore's done an amazing job on him. He isn't so nervous an..."

"Hermione dear, your chicken's getting cold." Emma chided. Hermione looked like she could go on for days about Harry. This wasn't the first time Emma had noticed the look of joy on her daughter's face or the fondness in her voice when she talked about Harry. She also didn't fail to notice that Harry's name seemed to come up much more often than Ron's. She decided to broach the subject gently.

"So when will you be seeing each other again dear? Will he be coming with Ron to pick you up?"

"No, Ron said they were planning to rescue him from his relatives on the Tuesday before the world cup. That means I'll see him in a week."

"And what are your plans when you _do _see him dear?"

Hermione looked confused. "What do you mean mum?"

"Well dear." Emma said, her voice tender and caring. "It sounds to me like you have a little crush on Harry. I was just checking to see if you were planning to do anything about it."

Peter choked on his drink and Hermione turned a deep crimson at her words. "What? No." She spluttered. "Harry and I are just friends. I don't have a crush on him."

Emma had a knowing look in her eyes as she said to Hermione- "Ah…. Ok dear. I was just checking." Hermione looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there. So she decided to change the topic. "Now can you explain to me again how Ron and his father are getting here? I didn't quite follow it the first time."

As Hermione launched into an explanation of something called 'flu', her face still red, Peter silently wondered if his little girl was falling for her friend. How could it be? She was only fourteen? He tried to disregard the fact he had had his first crush when he was fourteen. Besides, what boy was good enough for his daughter? She deserved to be treated like a princess and Harry sounded like he was nothing but trouble. He had to work hard to remember only a few moments ago, he had felt grateful that Hermione had Harry in her life. All of a sudden, Peter had the overwhelming inclination to mix a vial of poison in that drink.

It was only later that night when she was laying in her bed, tucked snugly between blankets, Hermione thought about what her mother had said. Could it be possible? Was she smitten by Harry? It seemed like an outlandish idea. And yet…

She cuddled her pillow as she thought about Harry, his shoulder length black hair flying in the wind, eyes ablaze with anger and desperation and his wand slashing through the air as he drove the dementors away. He had always stood up for her, even when she had been a not-so-pretty, bossy, know-it-all. He was smart and sweet. And he never fought with her or took sides when she and Ron argued, even though Ron was his best mate. Yes, Harry was extremely fanciable, now more than ever. But would he feel the same way about her? After all, she was just plain, bookworm Hermione Granger and he was…..

She fell asleep that night hugging her pillow, and dreaming about _him._

-#-

_The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole, England_ Aug-07-1994

The Burrow lay a little way outside the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, which suited its inhabitants just fine. The amount of noise generated by the household alone was enough to drive the entire village into sleeplessness. Besides, the occasional explosions, flying cars and a very cranky ghoul in the attic did not make for what was considered as civilized society. The jury was still out on the twin boys who lived there.

Today, the backyard was filled with five red-headed boys who were playing a game. They had placed a tin trash can on top of a tree and were trying to get a ball to land in it. It would have been a quite uninteresting game; had they not been playing it on flying brooms. Bill and Charlie were finding it hard to keep up with Fred and George. Their experience and skill was being outdone by the twins' teamwork. Ron floated in front of the tree with the bin, trying to prevent either team from scoring.

Down below, Ginny Weasley sat on a bench, hidden by the wild bushes that grew plentifully in the Burrow's backyard. She was torn between the desire to join in and show them how good she really was, and the fear of being ridiculed if she failed. She contented herself to just watching and listening to her brothers talk. As she watched, Charlie performed an impressive split on the broom raising both his legs sideways to let the quaffle Bill had thrown soar into the trash can.

Bill flinched. "Ouch. That hurts me just looking at it."

"Yeah Charlie, be careful. You might want to have kids one of these days-" George sniggered.

"-with one of your fire-breathing girlfriends." -completed Fred chortling.

Charlie frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Bill explained "I think our dear twin brothers are referring to the women in your life. Or the lack of it more like."

Charlie's frown turned into a smile. He missed this good-natured ribbing he got from his brothers when he was away. He decided to play along. "I'll have you lot know- I have a beauty waiting for me back in Romania."

Fred guffawed. "Yeah? How long is her tail?" George and Bill joined in.

Ron drifted closer. "We playing or not?"

Charlie decided to turn the tables on his older brother. "Shouldn't we be more interested in our dear older brother's love life? Always assuming he has one." He winked at Bill.

Bill snorted. "And who am I supposed to date? One of those attractive mummies? Or the lovely goblins I have the pleasure to work with?" He asked sarcastically before turning to look at Ron. "What about you Ron? Has anyone caught your eye yet?"

Ron answered without thinking. "I dunno. There aren't any good looking girls in my classes."

George looked at him like he had gone stark, raving mad. "What are you talking about Ronnekins? Some of the best looking girls at Hogwarts are in your year."

"Like who?"

George screwed his face into a mock thoughtful expression. "Hm… Let's see. Daphne Greengrass, Tr-"

"_She's Slytherin!"_ Ron exclaimed before George could say anymore. By the sound of his voice, he could have been asked to snog a troll's unwashed underpants.

"Doesn't matter little brother. She's still hot. I would ask her out myself if she wasn't so damned aloof all the time."

"Maybe she's just being aloof to you because you're a Gryffindor." Bill suggested.

"Not her Bill." Fred explained. "She's cold with everybody. Even other slytherins. Her nickname is Ice Queen. That tells you everything you need to know about her."

George continued. "Her friend Tracy Davis isn't bad looking either."

Ron shook his head stubbornly. "I don't care how hot they are. Slytherin green is like a hotness repelling charm."

George rolled his eyes. "Alright, let's try someone from the other houses. How about Susan Bones? Nice set of twins _on_ her." He winked blatantly.

"But everything else is just plain."

"Hannah Abbot? She's cute and perky all over."

"But she's kind of short."

George was losing patience now. "Lavender and Parvati?"

"Kinda talkative."

George asked with a straight face- "Are you _sure_ you're related to us Ron?"

"One thing you'll learn as time goes on Ron is that you don't want to be too picky about the girls you go out with." Fred advised. He added as an afterthought. "_Especially_ you."

In the bushes below, Ginny was clutching her sides with silent laughter. Trust Ron to find fault with every girl at school. But the twins made a very good point. The fourth-years had the best looking girls at school. She wondered if Harry thought like Ron. Maybe she hoped a little bit. The crush she had had on Harry before he saved her life seemed childish compared to what came after. The crush had transformed into unrequited love and now she yearned for Harry in a way even she couldn't understand. She felt possessive about him and wanted him to love her and nobody else. It was almost scary. But Harry was the same as ever. He treated her with respect and deference, but never anything more. Not even a look that said he considered her to be anything more than his best friend's sister.

Up above, the twins were still grilling Ron on his _type._

"Do you think Hermione is good-looking?"

Ron was so surprised by the question; he answered without thinking. "What! No. Of course not."

Fred looked like he had been received the answer he had been praying for. "Well that settles it then." He turned in midair to look at Ron and declared- "Congratulations on being the first gay person in our family Ron." Both Bill and Charlie burst out laughing at this.

Ron's ears turned red. "Shut up." He snarled.

"Is that why you keep skirmishing with Malfoy? Is it all the sexual tension?" George chortled.

That was the last straw for Ron. He held up his right hand with all his fingers folded except the middle one which was extended towards the twins. "Fuck you." Before anyone could react, an explosion of noise came from the back door of the Burrow. Ginny nearly fell out of her bench in alarm.

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY! HOW DARE YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT TO YOUR BROTHER? Get down here this instant." Mrs. Weasley had seen and heard Ron. As they all landed, Ron looked like he would like nothing better than to climb on to his broom and fly away to some distant land. He made his way up to the door as slowly as possible where Mrs. Weasley was standing, breathing like a winded rhinoceros, with her hands on her hips.

Bill and Charlie watched nostalgically and the twins delightedly as Mrs. Weasley began to chew out her youngest son.

-#-

_Greengrass Manor, London_ Aug-07-1994

Daphne Greengrass sat on a huge four-poster bed working on her Potions essay. Her blonde hair was untied and fell freely to her stomach. And she had the flawless peachy complexion to go with her hair. The lips that were chewing the back-end of a quill were soft, orange and incredibly shapely. All of this set off her icy blue eyes to perfection. Her room was enormous. And everything in it, from the luxuriously soft rug, to the expensive paintings that adorned the walls, proclaimed of money and taste.

On the study-table opposite her bed sat her best and only friend, Tracy Davis. Her auburn hair was cut much shorter than Daphne's, but it was no less striking. The friendly, brown eyes, straight nose and rounded chin gave her the look of a lost puppy. She was also engrossed in her essay.

They were two starkly contrasting people. Good looks aside, they had very little in common. Tracy was a friendly, sociable girl who was highly popular among the boys for her complete lack of objection to broom-closets. She hated working hard for anything and preferred to study for the sake of it.

Daphne, on the other hand, was one of the hardest workers Hogwarts had ever seen. It was no secret among the more studious students that Daphne and Hermione were always trying to outdo each other in the exams. In addition to this, Daphne was also a good duelist, having taken up dueling classes as a child. A skill she did not hesitate to use when any of the boys got too comfortable with her.

And yet, for all their differences, Tracy and Daphne were the best of friends and could hardly ever be seen without each other. Finally, Tracy folded her essay, placed it inside her Potions book and looked over at Daphne. Daphne, having just finished the essay herself stared back languidly at her. Then she said- "Dad was at the ministry today." Her voice would have sounded melodiously sweet had there not been a note of vanity in it.

"So?"

"So he had some interesting news." Daphne said simply and fell back on the bed, stretched and relaxed without saying anything more. Tracy rolled her eyes. This was typical Daphne. She would create interest about something and then revealed it at her own pleasure. It was the same with boys. Daphne would make a boy think she was interested in him and when he tried to get close to her, she would enjoy herself by playing hard-to-get.

"Are you going to make me ask?"

"The Triwizard tournament is taking place this year at Hogwarts."

"What!" Tracy squealed. "Why did you keep it quiet for so long? I'm going to…" Daphne cut in- "There's also going to be a dueling tournament as a part of it and I'm planning to enter."

Tracy looked at her friend like she had lost her marbles before saying in hushed tones- "Are you crazy? There's no way you're going to stand a chance against Durmstrang." Daphne merely shrugged.

"Why do you want to enter anyway? You have money. As far as I know, you're not an adrenaline junkie. And I'm pretty sure you don't want to do it for the fame _or_ the school."

Daphne stretched again and closed her eyes. "It's complicated."

"I'm sure I can keep up." Tracy wasn't Daphne's best friend for no reason. She had the knack to draw out the Ice Queen.

Daphne opened one of her eyes and regarded her lazily. Tracy felt like she was being surveyed by a queen, and then reminded herself she was. "Alright, I just want to prove girls are better than boys at dueling. For too long, they've repressed us from truly demonstrating our potential. Idiots like Malfoy and Blaise get to do things we can't just because they're boys. All we're encouraged to do is _study._" She paused, her normally cold eyes betraying a hint of anger. Even Tracy, who spent most of her time with Daphne, rarely witnessed any form of emotion from her unless she was truly moved. It reminded Tracy there was still a passionate girl behind the mask of pride and vanity. Daphne continued "The entire magical world will be watching this tournament and everything even remotely related to it. If I can beat the boys, especially the ones from Durmstrang, then I will have made my point."

Tracy couldn't think of a counter-argument to that; so decided to divert the conversation. "Why are they holding a dueling tournament anyway? That's not part of the actual tournament, is it?"

"It is this time, according to my father. There's also going to be an inter-school Quidditch tourney and academic competition in addition to the actual Triwizard tournament. The winners of each will be given points and the winning school will be decided by the total amount of points at the end of the year."

"Well, at least this year will be exciting. I wonder how many people the other schools will be bringing."

"All."

"I'm sorry?"

"All of the students and teachers from the other schools will be coming _and_ they'll be taking classes with us."

Daphne watched with a small amount of amusement as Tracy squealed with joy and promptly began to draw up a list of accessories she would need to impress the foreign students.

-#-

_Riddle Manor, England_ Aug-08-1994

The dead body of Frank Bryce lay spread-eagled on the cold floor. Very next to the body was an old arm-chair that faced the fire. It also currently contained one of the most feared men of all time. Behind the chair stood three men of varying sizes. The first one was a very short man with watery eyes and a rat-like face. This was Wormtail. Next to him stood a middle-sized man whose face bore the signs of being very handsome once. Azkaban however, had taken away most of Barty Crouch Jr's looks. His hair had already started greying behind his neck and at the sides. His face was sunken and waxy. He looked much older than his thirty one years. The last man was big and blonde. He wore a Death-Eater costume; but held the mask in his hands. It was him Lord Voldemort addressed.

"Be very sure not to leave any signs when you dispose off the body Rowle." His voice was like an icy wind. It certainly caused Wormtail to shudder every time he heard it. "Transfigure it into something before burying it. I shall be most displeased if anyone were to find out about him. I intend to spend the next few days here and I do not want curious interlopers around."

Thorfinn Rowle was not accustomed to disposing bodies. He usually just killed and left the body behind. But he wasn't about to say that to his master. He merely murmured- "Yes, my lord."

"Now… Let us go back to what you were telling me. Why is Lucius rallying my remaining Death Eaters?"

"I'm not sure, my lord. I was simply told to attack muggles after the Quidditch World Cup to create a diversion."

"Diversion for what Rowle?" The voice was almost soft now.

Rowle tried not to let his fear creep into his voice as he answered- ""I… I don't know, my Lord."

"_Find out._" Lord Voldemort's voice came back, sharp and biting. "There are only a few days left to the world cup Rowle. And I want to know what Lucius is planning before it takes place. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord. I'll go right now with your permission." His voice was almost hopeful.

"Go. And keep your ears open for any other useful piece of information."

"Yes, my lord." The relief in his voice was evident as he took out his wand, levitated the Frank's body and left the room.

Voldemort waited for a minute before speaking again. "You did well by bringing him along Barty. He has been quite useful. It seems luck favors Lord Voldemort today."

Crouch Jr. almost fell over in his eagerness to talk to the Dark lord. He approached the arm-chair and knelt beside one of its arms. "Thank you, my lord. I shall keep an eye on him."

"Very good. He must not know how weak I am. It may lead him to reconsider his allegiance to me."

"Of course. Anything else I can do?"

"Yes. No one should find out about what happened to your father. Take his place and find a way to get close to the boy. Wormtail here tells me he is too well trained to be captured by you alone. Trick him into trusting you and then bring him to me. I shall let you know where you can find us as soon as we find a safe place to stay undetected. Can you do that for me, my loyal Death Eater?"

Crouch Jr. said in a voice filled with joy and pride- "It would be an honor, my lord."

Voldemort said broodingly- "Good. For too long, the world has believed me dead. For too long, the world has believed me defeated and gone. For too long, the world has lived without the _fear_ of Lord Voldemort. But that will change soon. I will rise again and they will learn to fear me once more. But for that, I need Harry Potter."

200 miles away, Harry Potter woke up.

**A\N:- Sorry if you found the first chapter boring. It was setting the stage for the rest of the story. I promise the action will pick up from the next chapter on-wards. Please let me know what you think of it. **

**Also, English is not my first language. So kindly excuse any grammar discrepancies. Good night.**


	2. Chapter 2: Enter the Hero

**A/N: - Thanks to all who have reviewed, fav'd and followed. You guys really make it worth my while. **

_**Chapter 2: Enter The Hero.**_

_Number 4, Privet Drive, Surrey, England _(Aug-08-1994)

A pair of eyes snapped open to reveal two emerald green irises. They wandered around the small room, taking in the peeling wallpapers and the many broken objects that filled the room, before coming to rest on a snowy female owl that was dozing peacefully in her cage. The eyes belonged to a tall, dark-haired individual who was now fully awake. His dorm-mates had always been in awe of his ability to go from a state of sleepy drowsiness to watchful wakefulness in a matter of seconds. But then again, Harry Potter had always been different.

Everything was quiet except for Dudley snoring in the next room. The twice-repaired alarm clock on his desk told him it was just before dawn. The Dursleys wouldn't be up for another two hours at least.

His scar was hurting again. Hurting, as it hadn't for more than two years now. The last time had been when he had stopped Quirrell from taking the Philosopher's stone. Flashes of the dream he had just had, came to him. Was it really a dream? It had seemed so real. He decided he needed a clear head before thinking about it.

Harry swung his long legs off the bed and got up, careful not to make any noise. He silently made his way to the bathroom, pausing only to take a thin piece of black cloth from his bedside table. The Dursley's did not know about his newly-acquired habit of rising early and he wished to keep it that way. At the wash-basin, Harry splashed some cold water on his face before looking in the mirror. Hair had just started growing on his face- the beginning of a moustache and a beard. As he had done routinely over the last year, Harry tied the piece of black cloth around his forehead like a halo, hiding the scar. His dark hair was messier than ever, given that he now his hair almost reached his shoulders. But it was the eyes which were the most remarkable feature, sparkling green, like water over a stone, calm, expressionless, holding their own secrets. The face that stared back at him could have belonged to as much a sixteenth-century bravo as James Potter.

Harry used the back door to exit the house. He walked out on to the road and stretched. Lupin had stressed on the importance of keeping physically fit. So Harry had cultivated the habit of jogging. And now, he felt peculiar throughout the day if he skipped his morning run. He started out slowly and then raised his pace to a steady soldier's trot that ate away the miles. He didn't stop until he reached a park four miles away. Harry had come here every morning since he had returned to Privet Drive. It was in a quiet neighborhood and was almost deserted except for a few other early morning walkers.

He made his way to his favorite bench in the park and dropped into it. The sun filtered mildly through the leaves of the giant oak tree under which the park bench was set. Harry almost felt sleepy again. Instead of succumbing, he sat up straight, legs on the ground, arms folded and eyes closed. Slowly, but deliberately, he started to empty his mind of all emotions. He concentrated on the dream he had had that morning, trying to remember it. The breeze was so pleasant, the sun so mild and the chirping of the birds so melodious, he caught himself drifting twice. Then the sounds around him faded away. He could still hear them, but like a distant echo.

He was seated on a beach, high above the sand, reading a book. The sounds of laughter came to him. He looked around and caught sight of two children playing in the sand. They were making sand-castles. As he watched, the little girl threw a bucket of water on the black-haired boy. He spluttered for a second. And then, reaching down, he neatly tripped the girl's knees from under her. She stumbled and fell head first into the sand-castle behind her. The boy's laughter rang out loud and clear.

Then suddenly, the seat Harry was sitting on began to move. He was rising into the air gently. Harry felt alive as he hadn't in days. This was better than any broom or hippogriff. He felt like he was moving in through the air without any support. Then he looked down to see he was sitting on something big and scaly. Then the scene changed abruptly.

The little boy's laughter died away and now Harry was in a room with a short man he recognized as Wormtail, who was looking silently at an old armchair. The armchair was speaking. Speaking, in a voice that Harry, with a sudden rush of dread, recognized only too well. Voldemort was talking to a man kneeling by the chair. "_Earn his trust…_ _Trick him…. Bring him to me… I need Harry Potter."_

Harry opened his eyes. His head was pounding with the pain that he normally associated with Occlumency. In addition, his scar was also twinging painfully. Harry untied and tied the black cloth back over his scar again. It didn't ease the pain one bit. But he hadn't expected it to. It was just another habit he had cultivated.

Harry realized that his second dream hadn't really been a dream. It had actually happened. And Voldemort had sent a Death Eater to get close to him. "_Brilliant." _Harry thought._ "Just one more person I have to watch out for."_

Harry decided Sirius needed to know, and maybe he would tell Dumbledore when he saw him. But for now there was nothing to do but wait for the Death Eater to make contact. The park was starting to fill up with little kids and their parents. Watching them always made Harry feel better. This was the life Voldemort had taken away from him. And this was what he, Dumbledore, Sirius and so many others were fighting to protect. He slowly raised himself off the bench and started the long run back to Privet Drive.

This was going to change things. Voldemort had a body again. Or at least enough of a body to sit in an armchair. What had he expected? Dumbledore had warned him Voldemort would return. At least now, he could be stopped before he got too powerful. Then why did he feel so unnerved.

Harry was so lost in thought; he didn't even notice where he was going until he ran into the entire Dursley family in the dining hall. Aunt Petunia was cutting up a grapefruit into pieces and Dudley was watching with distaste. Harry cursed under his breath. He had managed to keep his early morning escapades a secret so far. And now….

"Boy, where have you been?" Uncle Vernon was his usual cheery self as he stared over the newspaper at Harry with intense dislike. Across the table from him, Dudley looked up from his plate, his piggy little eyes hopeful for some entertainment. Harry briefly considered giving Uncle Vernon a scathing reply, but decided against it. He simply turned away from Vernon and started walking towards the stair-case. Dudley went back to his breakfast with a disappointed look on his face, but Uncle Vernon bristled angrily. "BOY, come back here and answer me. You don't walk away when I'm talking to you. If you had been my son, you wouldn't behave like this."

Harry deliberately looked towards the kitchen where Dudley sat; staring blankly at his grape quarter as though it would increase in size if he stared at it hard enough. "Clearly."

That one word, which was delivered with all the tenderness of a speeding bullet, caused Uncle Vernon's face to turn a blotchy red. Harry couldn't decide whether it was out of embarrassment or anger. He decided to settle on anger when he saw Uncle Vernon's eyes narrow dangerously.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that boy. Dudley is ten times the man you are and…"

"I'm not arguing that."

Vernon tried to grab Harry by the throat as he had done so many times before. But Harry was faster. He moved just enough for Vernon's hand to miss him by an inch and then stepped forward looking down on Vernon's face. The growth spurt last year meant that Harry was as tall as Vernon. Uncle Vernon's eyes were now slits of fury. A vein was popping on his forehead. Harry saw an outburst coming from Vernon. He forestalled it, slightly angry himself. "Don't raise your voice Uncle. You'll just be wasting your breath. It doesn't work anymore." His voice was calm as always. But there was a hint of force there that Vernon did not miss. "And while we're at it, let me also tell you my friend and his father will be coming to pick me up the day after tomorrow. I would rather you didn't make a scene Uncle. You do remember what happened the last time I lost my temper, don't you? You wouldn't want your wife floating near the ceiling now, would you? "

He turned and sprinted up the steps, taking three at a time, leaving Vernon spluttering in the landing below. He had promised Dumbledore he would be careful not to lose his temper with the Dursleys. Come to think of it, he had promised Dumbledore he wouldn't lose his temper at all. Angry people made bad decisions. It was that simple. But Vernon's constant bullying was tiring. It didn't help he had just learned Voldemort was back, and that he was sending Death Eaters to trick him and kidnap him.

The first thing he noticed as he entered his room was that Hedwig was up and she did not look happy. The reason for her displeasure soon became apparent when it collided into the side of his head. Ron had sent Pigwidgeon with a letter. Harry snatched the over-enthusiastic little owl out of the air and untied the letter from its leg. It was from Ron.

"_Hey Harry,_

_Did you tell the muggles we're coming the day after tomorrow? I hope they didn't give you too much of a hard time when they found out. But who cares right? We're going to see the Quidditch World Cup! It's going to be brilliant. Ireland vs. Bulgaria. I can finally show you Krum and maybe we'll even get to meet him after the match. There's going to be a post-match autograph signing session by the winning team. I hope Bulgaria wins. Don't tell anyone here I said that though. _

_But that's not even the big news. Dad came back from work today almost skipping. Guess what? The Triwizard tournament is gonna take place this year at Hogwarts. I'll explain all about it when you get here. Long story short, this year at Hogwarts is going to be the best ever. We'll get to see all kinds of cool stuff. You just wait…_

_Hermione's parents are going to drop her off here tomorrow. She'll be here for the rest of the summer too. So the three of us can be together almost a month before school actually starts. Sounds great right?_

_Alright then Harry. I'll see you on Tuesday. Take care. _

_Ron."_

The corners of Harry's mouth turned upwards to form a half-smile. Somehow, the knowledge that he was going to see a friendly face soon made him feel a lot better. He turned to look at Hedwig. "Feeling up to a long journey?" he asked. She hooted reassuringly, her amber eyes fixed on the letter in Harry's hand. Harry finished writing a letter to Sirius, tied it to Hedwig's leg and carried her to the window. With a moment's pressure on his arm, she soared into the sky.

Harry leaned on the window, watching her go -a patch of white in the pale blue sky. He didn't know what the Triwizard tournament was. But it must be pretty big for Ron to rate it higher than the Quidditch World Cup. He was already looking forward to his next year at Hogwarts.

-#-

_The Burrow, England _(Aug-10-1994)

Hermione watched nervously as the figure of Fred spun into view inside the fireplace. He landed awkwardly on his knees, unable to use his hands to steady himself as he was carrying Harry's trunk. George darted forward to help him to his feet. Fred got up, trying hard to stop a grin from spreading on his face. The look that he gave George was mirrored on his twin brother's face.

The kitchen was crowded with all the Weasleys except for Ron and Mr. Weasley. Fred, George, Ron and Mr. Weasley had left to get Harry and it looked like he would be arriving soon. Everyone in the Burrow had gathered in the kitchen to greet Harry and was expecting his arrival. Hermione couldn't understand why she was so nervous. It was almost like she was about to enter the exam hall when she hadn't prepared for the exam.

The floo turned green again and Ron came into view. He caught himself from falling, dusted soot off his shirt and looked around the room, taking in the crowded kitchen. His eyes found Hermione, who was wedged in a chair between a very excited Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, and grinned at her uncertainly. Hermione returned it as best as she could. Their interactions when Harry wasn't around were awkward, hostile or scathing and sarcastic.

The floo turned green again and this time, Hermione knew it was Harry. The jet black hair that was spinning in the fireplace could only belong to him. Bill and Charlie stood up from their seats to get a better view. After all, this was their first time meeting Harry Potter.

As the floo stopped spinning, Harry lurched out of the fireplace. He didn't even try to land on his feet, choosing instead to go into a smooth roll and coming to stop with one knee on the ground, five feet away from the fireplace. His black hair fell freely to his shoulders, held out of his face by the halo he had taken to wearing. His alert green eyes took in the room and its occupants quickly, coming to rest on Hermione. His mouth formed into its perpetual half-smile that he usually gave her. Hermione could feel herself blush as she returned the smile, trying hard not to seem flustered. He looked just as much like a prince as the ones she had read about.

On the other side of the room, Harry straightened up, watching with a slight bit of amusement, as Ginny's face turned red enough to match her hair. What surprised him was that Hermione seemed to be having a similar reaction. Nor could he understand why Ron, who was standing next to him, suddenly seemed so pleased with himself.

-#-

_Quidditch World Cup, England_ (Aug-11-1994)

"_I still don't see why we had to come." –_complained Jasmin, as she glared at one of the Bulgarian Quidditch players who seemed unable to stop himself from staring at her breasts. Behind her, Fleur, who was trying to get a good look at Krum, laughed. The World Cup match had just ended and most of the Quidditch stars were making their way into the Top Box for the Presentation ceremony. The match had been an exciting affair. Fleur had never thought she would actually enjoy such a violent game amidst such a crowded place. But she had.

Dom had ensured that they arrive just in time for the match to begin. This meant that most people were in their seats and Fleur, Jasmin and Apolline hadn't been gawked at so much. And when the match started, Fleur had been able to forget about everything else and watch some of the most skilled players in the world play Quidditch. She had never really been a fan of Quidditch, always considering it to be a barbaric sport. But between the cheering crowd of over a hundred thousand and the tremendous skill shown by both the seekers, she might well have had a change of heart. By the sound of it however, Jasmin clearly didn't share her enthusiasm.

"_Unbelievable! You would rather stay at home doing nothing than be here?" _Fleur scolded her adopted sister.

"_If staying at home means I have less attention drawn towards me, then yes." _Jasmin retorted, crossing her hands in front of her chest and glaring pointedly at the Quidditch player until he looked away.

Fleur was just about to respond when the stadium exploded with noise. A very bloody Krum had just shuffled his way into the spotlight. Even Jasmin, who didn't really understand the game, clapped her hands politely as Krum acknowledged the applause.

Neither Fleur nor Jasmin however, noticed the pair of calculating grey eyes studying them from behind.

_Later that night_

Harry watched grimly, from his seat atop a tree, as pandemonium reigned on the campsite. He had climbed the tree to try to spot Ron and Hermione, but the bedlam on the campsite had drawn his attention. The screams and yells coming from the campsite echoed throughout the woods. Some of the people were apparating from the woods as the mass of Death-eaters destroyed the campsite in an organized pattern. Tents were blown out of their path, as was any witch or wizard unfortunate enough to be caught in their way. The majority of the Ministry officials were concentrating their efforts on evacuating the campsite and protecting the high-level guests. The aurors, meanwhile, were trying to penetrate the Death-eater formation without causing hurt to the muggle family that was suspended in mid-air.

As Harry watched, an auror with a long scar on her left cheek fired a sparkling yellow curse at one of the death-eaters. The Death-eater, who had his wand pointed sky-wards, yelled and jumped out of the way. It would have been quite inconsequential had the Death-eater not been levitating a small, muggle girl. The girl soared through the air before starting to fall.

Harry knew he would never reach her in time. She was much too far from him to catch. But something told him to at least try. He pushed himself off the branch he was sitting on…and dropped twelve feet, landing with perfect balance. He was up and running before he had even come to a complete stop. He looked up again, trying to spot the girl in the darkness.

At that moment, he knew he would be too late. The girl was a good twenty five meters from him and just twenty feet from the ground. For a heart-stopping moment, Harry thought he was going to witness a gruesome death. Then someone at the side shouted- "ARRESTO MOMENTUM".

The girl slowed down just before she hit the dirt at the edge of the woods. She picked herself up, rather quickly for someone who had just fallen fifty feet through the air. She turned to see her parents still in the air, suspended by invisible ropes, spinning like tops. She seemed unable to process what she was seeing. Harry could see the terror in her eyes. For a moment, everything was still. Then the muggle girl turned and fled into the woods.

-#-

Dom saw the little girl he had just saved run into the woods. He was on the verge of following her when he saw an older boy dart into the woods after her. Dom was torn between staying back to help the aurors and the overpowering desire to go and make sure his family was safe. As soon as he had seen the Death-eaters, Dom had sent Fleur, Jasmin and Apolline, along with the aurors, into the woods to apparate away. He had elected to stay behind and help as best as he could. But now, he wasn't so sure. He just wanted to go back home and ensure his family was safe. He was about to enter the woods when a red stunner missed him by an inch. Dom turned back to fight….

-#-

Harry tried not to lose sight of the scared girl as she crisscrossed her way through the trees. At the rate she was running she looked unlikely to stop. Harry sped up and caught up to her near a small stream that winded through the woods. He tried to stop her by grabbing hold of her and regretted it immediately. She was plainly terrified. The moment his hands touched her she let out an ear-piercing scream that echoed across the woods. Harry immediately clapped a hand over her mouth.

She looked no older than seven or eight. Her blonde pigtails were covered with dirt and her blue eyes were looking at him with alarm. Harry immediately removed his hand covering her mouth. She wasn't screaming anymore. But she looked even more scared for it.

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." Harry tried to keep his voice as low and reassuring as possible. "What's your name?"

"Anne."

Harry took his coat off and draped it over her shivering body. "It's going to be alright Anne. They'll get your parents down in a few minutes."

Anne's blue eyes filled with silent tears. The shock and fear were still visible in them. "Why are they hurting us? We didn't do anything."

Harry felt like he had been dully punched in his stomach. It was such an innocent question. And yet…..

"I don't know Anne. I guess….some people do bad things just because they can."

Suddenly, light erupted in a clearing across the stream followed by shouts and shrieks. Anne gave a start before hiding behind one of Harry's legs. Across the stream, the shrieking increased. Whoever it was, it was a girl and she needed help. Harry gently disengaged Anne from his leg and steered her to the nearest tree. "Anne I want you to stay here, alright? I'm going to go across there to see if anybody is hurt. Ok?"

Anne clutched at his legs again. "Don't go." She begged. "Please don't go."

Harry smiled down at her, although he really couldn't think of a good reason to do so. "I'm not going to leave you Anne." Then added reassuringly. "Don't worry. You won't remember any of this tomorrow, alright?" Anne nodded, clasping the coat around her more securely.

Without further ado, Harry turned and hopped into the stream. The water, which only reached his knees, was colder than he had expected. He felt the mud stick to his pants and the occasional rock under his feet as he waded through the marsh. He came to a stop behind a large, white rock and quietly peered across it.

The sight that met his eyes was one of utter disarray. Two girls were standing at the center of the clearing with their wands out. Harry could only see the back of their heads. One of them had silver hair and the other dark black. They stood shoulder to shoulder and covering them were two other older women wearing, what Harry recognized, as French Auror uniforms. A few feet away from them lay the prone figures of two other aurors. All this, Harry observed later. At that moment however, his attention was directed towards the other end of the clearing.

At least eight masked death-eaters were advancing on the group slowly, all with their wands outstretched. At the forefront was a huge death-eater who held a beautiful, silver-haired woman in one of his arms while the other was pointing a wand at her. Her limp body indicated that she was unconscious. "Drop the wands" he commanded "or the pretty lady gets it." One of the hard-faced aurors spat at his feet. The death-eater's reaction was hidden by his mask.

Harry exhaled slowly. He didn't have to think too hard to imagine what they were planning to do to them. It sickened him. He turned back to see if there was anyone around. But everything was silent, except for the strange sounds of the creatures in the swamp. He couldn't even see little Anne. She had been swallowed by the dark and he felt very alone indeed. The cold was starting to bite into his bare skin and his legs felt numb. Conventional wisdom told him to go for help. But instinct, overwhelming instinct, told him help would be too late.

In the blink of an eye, Harry made up his mind. From his position, he could only see part of the clearing and barely hear anything. What was worse was that there was no cover on either side. Harry briefly considered going back across the stream and circling around the clearing, but immediately dropped it. It would take much too long and there was a good chance one of the death-eaters might notice him. He looked around for a suitable vantage point and caught sight of a massive oak at the edge of the marsh twenty feet away. It looked like the perfect place to see without being seen. The only problem was there was nothing in between the tree and the rock he was hiding behind.

Harry considered it for a moment and then the answer hit him. He took a deep breath and slowly, very quietly, slipped under water. The water was nowhere near deep enough to swim in. But it was just deep enough and muddy enough to hide him. He crawled forwards using his elbows to propel him. It was slow work and every movement forward became an agony as he started to run out of air. Weeds were torture because they repeatedly entangled around his limbs, stalling his progress. At long last, after what felt like hours, Harry saw the roots of the oak in the water and surfaced. He tried to remain as silent as possible as he took deep, lungful's of air.

Harry thought the oak's trunk was wider than Dudley, which was saying something. He scaled it with as little movement as possible. The dense foliage on the branches meant he didn't have to be too careful. Nevertheless, he tried to be. The Death-eaters had closed in on the girls and they were properly trapped now. Harry realized with a start that the two aurors he had seen were lying on the ground nearby. One of them was holding a very bloody stomach and groaning while the other was stock still. As he watched, one of the Death-eaters stunned the groaning auror.

Harry still couldn't see the girls' faces because they were standing right underneath the branch he was perched on. The Death-eaters had formed a sort of semi-circle around the tree. Harry spotted something even more disturbing from his position. Hidden among the trees opposite was one more masked Death-eater who seemed to be just lounging against the trees.

It was a bad look-out, Harry decided. A small voice inside Harry's head retorted. _But not impossible_. The corners of his mouth twisted to form a sardonic smile.

He quietly slipped his wand out of his pocket and very quietly, started chanting under his breath "_Petrificus tinium... petrificus tinium… petr_" The end of his wand began to take a blue glow as he pointed it towards the Death-eater hiding in the trees opposite.

The Death-eater neither saw nor heard the small, blue dart of light that hit him squarely in the chest. Then without the slightest change of expression or posture, he fell backwards. As Harry had hoped, none of the other Death-eaters had noticed. It had been a modified petrifying curse. Inconspicuous and efficient, but it took longer to cast. The next move was a little difficult. The formation of Death-eaters meant that knocking out any one of them would not go unnoticed by the others and that meant he had to wait for the opportune moment.

-#-

Down below, Jasmin was in a living nightmare. She was standing slightly behind Fleur and it was all she could do to keep her wand hand from trembling. She didn't have to look at the faces of the Death-eaters to know what they were thinking. She could feel their eyes on her and Fleur.

The lead Death-eater broke the silence. "Don't make us hurt you now. Just drop your wand and we'll… let you go."

"That's why you cornered us here, is it?" Fleur spat out. "So you can let us go?"

"Well aren't you feisty darling?" His voice took on an animalistic quality. "I'm going to have a lot of fun with you tonight, making you squirm beneath me."

The Death-eater standing next to him spoke up. His voice sounded weak and unused. He was clearly an old man. "Have you forgotten our orders? We're to take the girl and leave. We don't have time for this."

"I don't care about some stupid order, you old sod. _He_ ain't my master. I'll be damned if I let this opportunity go. I'm having myself a veela tonight." A murmur of agreement passed over their ranks as they eyed Fleur and Jasmin.

It was a tense moment. Fleur felt Jasmin's left hand on the small of her back. "_What?"_

"_I can't breathe Fleur."_

Fleur went very still. This was the worst possible moment for Jasmin to be having one of her panic attacks. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Jasmin starting to tremble and shake. She cast around for something reassuring to say, but couldn't come up with anything. Dom believed his family was safe, all the aurors were incapacitated and Apolline was unconscious on the Death-eater's arm. She herself was starting to grow cold with dread. There was no one left to help them.

With an effort, Fleur pulled herself away from these thoughts. She _couldn't _panic. Not now. Jasmin needed her. Her mother needed her to keep her wits about. She brought her left hand behind and clasped Jasmin's arm. "_Hold on Adri. Please don't lose control now." _

Jasmin clutched at Fleur's hand like it was a lifeline. She couldn't stop the tears spilling from her cheeks. This was it. The day she had dreaded. At last, Dom wasn't here to protect them anymore. She tried to imagine what it would be like. Perhaps it wouldn't be so painful. Perhaps they would let them live if they co-operated. Her skin crawled at the very thought. No. She would die before she let any of this scum touch her. And knowing Fleur, she was thinking along the same lines.

At that precise moment, a number of things happened in quick succession. The Death-eater at the very back of the group collapsed without a sound and the rest were so enamored by their prey, they didn't even notice. Jasmin couldn't understand what was going on. She felt herself struggling to breathe. The walls were closing in. It was all she could do to keep standing.

-#-

Up above, Harry was having a hard time aiming properly. The Death-eaters had moved closer together and they were right underneath the branch he was perched on. Harry could only see the top of their heads and their shoulders. The last Death-eater had gone down without making any noise. But that still left seven of them. Harry didn't know how useful the two girls would be in a fight, but the safe thing was to assume they would be useless.

The Death-eater at the extreme left never saw the red stunner that came from above. One minute, he was gazing at the black-haired veela's perfect breasts and next minute his face was in the dirt. But the rest of them heard the spell being cast. They looked around in panic, thinking aurors had found them. That gave Fleur the opening she needed. She didn't even bother with her wand as she brought her right foot up to meet the giant Death-eater's groin. He let go of Apolline and clutched his groin, howling in pain and agony. Apolline fell limply to the ground. Fleur left her where she was for the time-being and turned her wand on the nearest Death-eater without wasting a second. She cast the first spell that came to her mind which, unfortunately for the Death-eater, was a very nasty hex. Within seconds, he was covered in painful, pus-filled boils.

At the same time, Harry was causing a lot of chaos amongst the Death-eater ranks from above. He yelled- "_Ossis Fragmen_". A dark purple light erupted from his wand and hit one of the five Death-eater left standing in his right hand. It was a Bone-shattering curse. The crack of the man's forehand echoed around the clearing.

But unfortunately, the curse had also given away Harry's position. The Death-eaters finally realized that their attacker was above them. Curses of all colors flew in Harry's direction as three of the four remaining Death-eaters turned their attention towards him. The other one pointed his wand at Fleur. His mouth opened to cast a spell and for the briefest moment, Fleur thought she was going to die.

And then, someone flew through the air and landed knee-first on the Death-eater. His face hit the ground with a thud and he didn't move again. And all of a sudden, it was three on two. But now, the Death-eaters had the advantage. Their assailant wasn't in hiding anymore and they could aim properly at him now.

One of the three pointed his wand at Harry and yelled- "_Crucio_". Harry recognized the wheezy voice. It was the old man. He managed to dive out of the way. He landed smoothly on his shoulder and coming up on one knee. The old man tried to curse him again. But Harry was quicker. He fired a stunner before the old man could get all the words out. He had to throw himself out of the way and landed awkwardly on his face.

Fleur ducked and weaved as she dodged the curses of the two remaining Death-eaters. "_Crucio…Crucio_….You can't dance forever, beautiful."

Fleur ducked both the cruciatus curses and watched, in slow motion, as the other Death-eater's hex sailed towards her. She knew she would never be able to move in time…

Then, out of the blue, a shield jinx burst forth in front of her. She turned back to see Jasmin's dark eyes on hers. There was a quiet desperation in them. But there was also hope. Fleur felt a wave of relief wash over her. All the while she was battling; she had been praying Jasmin was alright.

It was now two on two and somehow, the Death-eaters felt outmatched. Jasmin and Fleur worked together seamlessly. Fleur kept up a steady stream of offensive hexes and curses, while Jasmin blocked most of the incoming curses. When she couldn't block a curse, she simply pulled or pushed Fleur out of the way. Even the Death-eaters watched the performance with a slight amount of awe. It was like they were fighting one person with four hands.

But then, out of nowhere, a dark purple curse flew in from the side and struck Jasmin on her left knee. Jasmin cry of pain was masked by Fleur's shriek. She turned to see who had cast the spell. It was the big Death-eater she had kicked in the groin earlier. His hood was gone to reveal a sickly white face with blonde hair. He fired another Bone-breaker at her. And for the second time that night, she felt herself freeze, unable to move.

Through her pain, Jasmin saw the lethal-looking curse heading for Fleur and without thinking, threw her arms around Fleur as her legs gave out. Both of them went down in a heap and Fleur dropped her wand. Before she could pick it up however, there were two other wands pointed at her and Jasmin's faces. Jasmin felt the despair growing in her again and instinctively, her hands sought Fleur's.

Suddenly, one of the hooded Death-eaters shouted- "WATCH OUT". They scattered as a fiery red curse came their way.

Harry was advancing on them with his wand upraised. The blonde Death-eater roared- "YOU'RE GONNA PAY FOR MEDDLING WITH US".

Harry didn't even bother to acknowledge him as he fired another Bone-breaker in their direction. He had to be careful. They were standing very close to the girls. Then as luck would have it, the blonde Death-eater moved forward, closely followed by the other two. He waited. He waited patiently for them to come closer. Just as they neared a huge rock in the middle of the clearing, he bellowed- "_EXPULSO_".

The rock exploded with the force of a small bomb. Small pieces of rock turned into shrapnel as they embedded themselves in the Death-eaters. The blonde Death-eater caught the worst of it. His face was covered in rock and the other two weren't much better off either. Harry took his time stunning them.

And at long last, he breathed a sigh of relief. The battle was over and he had escaped with only a deep cut on his left shoulder, where one of the rock pieces had cut him. He used his right hand to put pressure on the wound as he walked towards the two girls. They were both trying to wake up the silver-haired woman. As he approached, they turned to look at him.

Harry stopped in his tracks. He knew veela were very beautiful. He had just seen them at the World Cup match. But surely what he was seeing now must be unreal. Women this beautiful couldn't exist. They had just been through a very harrowing ordeal and they looked nothing less than spectacular.

"Are you two alright?" he asked.

Both of them were looking strangely at him. The dark-haired girl seemed unsure about whether or not to talk to him. The silver-haired girl, on the other hand, was giving him a calculating look. It wasn't one he liked. Maybe because it was reminiscent to the look Snape usually gave him. She finally replied- "Yes, we're fine. But my mother needs a healer soon and my friend's knee is broken."

"Okay. If you can help your friend walk, I can probably carry your mother. We need to get out of here as soon as possible. There's no telling if there are more of them around."

That got them moving. Harry lifted the beautiful, silver-haired woman off the ground and was surprised by how light she was.

Fleur helped Jasmin to her feet and said to Harry. "Thank you… for saving us." For a minute she looked almost surprised at what she had just said. Jasmin chipped in- "We're really glad you came to help us". And she looked like she really meant it.

Harry grimaced as his shoulder gave an extra painful sting. He said wryly- "My pleasure". Something about what he said brought a smile on Jasmin's face. Fleur continued to look at him in a odd way.

"My name is H-"

"_Miss Delacour… Miss Delacour… What happened to you? What happened to your mother? Why are you still here?_" A very hefty man wearing French Ministry robes had come charging into the clearing followed by two others in similar robes. He stopped dead when he saw the carnage of the battle around him.

Fleur looked at him suspiciously. Something that Harry didn't miss. "_Who are you? Do you know my father?_"

For an answer, the man took out a Ministry badge from his robes. "_Lucien Caron, miss. From the Department of Improper Use of Magic, French Ministry. What happened here?_"

Fleur explained briefly what had happened. "… _and if it wasn't for this man here, we would all have been dead or worse_".

Lucien Caron nodded. He switched to English so that Harry could understand. "Thank you, monsieur. We owe you a great debt for saving one of our Minister's daughters."

"Yeah. No problem. Just hurry up alright? These people need medical help." Harry said indicating the prone bodies of aurors. Fleur looked at him incredously but didn't say anything.

Lucien Caron nodded again. "Of course. However, protocol dictates that you three surrender your wands. After all, you did attack these… people, even though it was only in self-defense. I assure you, you'll get it back soon."

They turned over their wands quietly. Harry was the last to hand over his wand. As he turned, he heard someone shriek, felt something hard crash into the nape of his neck, and felt no more.

**A/N:- Okay…first things first. Yes, I changed Harry a little bit. I made him a bit taller, his hair a little longer and gave him a piece of cloth to cover his forehead. He doesn't wear glasses either. Apart from that, this is the same hero we all love to love. And Fleur and Jasmin will not be having accents. English is a beautiful language and I can't bring myself to slaughter it that way.**

**Second…. Sorry if you were expecting me to change the World Cup match. I think its fine just the way it is. But you don't have to be disappointed. There's going to be plenty of Quidditch action in this story. And no…. Harry did not meet the girls at the Top Box. And I'm also sorry if some of you felt my description of the battle was too tedious. In my defense, this is as much an action story as it a romance.**

**Third….about updates….I know how frustrating it is to wait for updates. There have been times when I have pelted authors with requests for updates just days after they published their newest chapter. But I'm afraid I can only write this story when I have the time. So please bear with me if I take some time updating. I will always stand by what I said in the first chapter. This story will be completed and it will be completed well. But considering the story I have in mind that might well take years. Also…. Since most of you felt that the last chapter was too long, I'll be keeping my chapters under 9000 words from now on. I will probably update once every month.**

**Finally…..to everyone who has fav'd, foll'd and reviewed. I know I thanked you at the beginning of this chapter, but I'm gonna do it one more time. Thanks a lot. I honestly didn't expect 300 follows after the first chapter itself.(Yeah, I'm bragging) You are the main reason I write this story, so please do let me know what you think of it. Thank you and sorry about the long A/N.**


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